My head is killing me today. I probably should have put off this post until tomorrow, but I find that if I put it off one day nothing will stop me from putting it off tomorrow either. (And the next day... and the next day... you get the idea.) I am trying very hard to stick to a weekly posting schedule. (Look, at me!) I can't promise this will last. I procrastinate.... a lot.
The kids have been out of school for a week. God, help me. Today was/still is one of those days. I have a blazingly bad headache and the girls feel the need to run, squeal, fight, cry, and generally make as much noise as they can. As a result I have banished the little darlings upstairs. I can still hear them but the noise they are emitting is blissfully muffled. (Sometimes.) I love my children. (This has been my mantra today.) Do you ever want to say to your kids "If you loved mommy, you'd stuff a sock in it and take a nap"? Oh, this is me today.
It is like children have a way to detect when their parents are stressed or feeling ill. Beep. Beep. Beep. "Look, the MIOHLN (Mom Is On Her Last Nerve) sensor is going off. You know what we have to do, troops. Paige, play the cymbals with the lids to the pots. Charlotte, you run in circles and giggle incessantly. I will sing a Katy Perry song at the top of my lungs. Let's move, move, move." I swear this has to be the explanation.
I need some Tylenol. Since this means moving from the couch, it is probably not going to happen. I would go take a hot bath to help relax but this means two things would happen. One, I would have to get up. Two, I would get settled in the tub and someone will need to go potty. Then, someone will have pulled someone's hair. Then, I will have to settle a dispute about who gets to play with what toy and whether they should play library or Barbies. The end result would be that I will get frustrated by the gross lack of privacy in my home. I will get out of the bathtub more tense and cranky than when I got in.
It is on days like this that I am thankful for my husband. Once he gets home I will say, "Your turn" and head of the rest and get a better grasp on my patience and sanity. These are the days that I NEED my husband. These are the days that I have great respect for the single moms out there. I can barely hold it together some days by the time Brian gets home. Single moms don't (necessarily) get that break everyday. So even though I am having a "Poor, Pitiful Me" day, I am really one of the lucky ones.